


five times oikawa marveled at the ocean and one time the waves returned the favor

by livennadin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5 + 1 times, 5+1 Things, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Oikawa Tooru-centric, One Shot, Time Skips, i absolutely adore the idea of ocean lover oikawa, my first time writing him :3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livennadin/pseuds/livennadin
Summary: just as the title suggests, six important moments oikawa shares with/within the ocean





	five times oikawa marveled at the ocean and one time the waves returned the favor

1.

 

The first time he is ever in the ocean’s presence he has yet to know what drowning is.

  


Muted blues, separated evenly by the horizon, spread in front of the five year old boy; the cloudless early morning sky and the watchful ocean looks infinite in Tooru’s doe eyes. His mother -she wore colorful, long skirts that flows with the wind back then- stands between him and his older sister. His dad is a few steps behind as the breeze picks up, swirls and places back down his light colored locks.

 

His sister is scared, clutching onto their mother’s leg as her gentle hands card through her chocolate brown locks. Tooru, however, with the same color of locks -bowl cut and unbearably soft- walks up and away from beside their mother towards the mother of the earth - _the ocean._

 

They were visiting a different city, primarily to attend Tooru’s favorite uncle’s wedding, sightseeing in the meantime as much as they can with two little kids. Needles to say, it was hectic. But his mother offered to stop by the oceanside before they start their journey back home.

  


In a couple of years, Tooru will wonder why their visit was so short, so fleeting.

 

His mother lets his chubby hand go, watching as the little boy takes step after step to the watery scenery. The ocean is _unstable_ , Tooru learns as a wave hits the stone barrier out of nowhere, droplets of foam and salt showering him. He slips on the wet ground.

 

“Tooru!” His mother calls out, closing the distance in three purposeful steps. The boy giggles as he pushes himself up from where he fell. A scraped knee is nothing for a five year old boy that loves the wind in his hair.

 

His sister, eight years ahead of him in life, scoffs as fond as a thirteen year old can and clumsily places band aids on the fresh wound once they are in the car.

 

Tooru slams two hands and a forehead to the backseat window as they drive away from the massive blue that captured his heart.

  
2.  
  


“Aye aye captain!” His sister laughs.

 

She is seventeen with silky locks of solidified hot chocolate framing an elegant face. Good with kids, a fun big sister as Tooru runs around the room. So, for now she fits all of the little boy’s criteria.

 

The nine year old boy has a toy eye patch covering one of his curious eyes. He is holding a plastic sword. He bounces on the couch, points to somewhere with his sword.

 

“Mind the sails!” He yells, jumps from the couch. “Bring me that horizon!”

 

Their giggles rise like waves churning, breaking the surface.

  


Tooru runs on short legs. Slides to a stop when he reaches his mother. Flinging himself to her legs, he clutches on the white shirt she wears to catch her attention. “Mommy! I wanna be an astronaut! Or! Or— a captain!”

 

His mother smiles, he doesn’t realize it then but it _is_ like the ocean too. Unreadable, changing.

 

“You sure do want to venture away, don’t you?”

  
  


3.

 

He is fourteen when he learns that one can cry from happiness.

  


He is sitting at a beach. The oceanside is not drowned in cement in this little town they’re staying in for the summer - it is covered in white sand. The shore welcomes the ocean each time it returns in waves, it sends away its watery lover after every time it comes back.

 

Tooru hugs his knees to his chest, just like he did his Best Setter Award when he received it. He hides a smile behind his legs as irises like chestnut palettes watch the ocean. He giggles to himself. It was big— it is big. He got an award. Even his sister called amongst all the graduation and internship fuss to congratulate him.

 

He wonders what will become of his twenty two year old sister. Where will she live? Where will she work?

 

He places his chin on top of his knees. What will become of _him?_ He applied to many high schools in the prefecture, but has eyes on a specific one. The one his sister graduated from too.

 

The navy blue shorts he has rustles as the dry fabric moves alongside him.

  


Tooru has slipped out of their one roomed little flat with boring yellow walls when the sun stirred awake. There is no one around, save for him and the black stray dog that followed him down here.

 

The salt is prominent even on the air. It burns his nose as the ocean lets itself fall into pieces in the sand’s arms. His smile grows.

 

He turns to the dog sitting next to him and pets the soft fur. “You must love the oceanside too.” He says. The dog yawns, its breath hitting Tooru’s face.

 

“You are lucky— you live here. You can come to this beach whenever you want.”

 

The only answering sound is the soft waves.

 

His mother is scared with every birthday of his that they tick off the calendar: Because for each year he completes, the yearning for the sea and the stars in him grows double in magnitude, even though he can’t name it yet.

 

His mother doesn’t want to hold him back, she’s said that once; she doesn’t quite want to let go either. It doesn’t matter much for Tooru now. For the time being, he just wants a place in a powerhouse high school.

 

His mother also told him not to swim when they weren’t around. It _also_ doesn’t matter much as he gets up and walks towards the ocean. He swears it parts way for him slightly.

 

He dips his feet first. It’s cold but welcome. On a second thought, he won’t swim now. He is old enough to know if something happened to him no one is in close proximity to help. He briefly wonders what Iwa-chan is doing as he sits down on the wet sand and lets the waves lap at his legs. He must be keeping his little twin brothers in check now that he doesn’t have to do that for Tooru.

 

He thinks of Iwa-chan’s hand holding back his raised arm, his body positioned between Tooru and Tobio-chan’s. He dismisses the memory, locks it in a safe then buries it deep in the arbitrary soil of his mind. It’s no use to dwell on the black ink that bled through his words and actions then. Plus, he apologized. And it’s not the _genius setter_ that got the award, it’s him.

 

The dog gets up from behind him and sprinkles sand to everywhere its careless paws trot through. Tooru laughs as the dog goes straight into the water and runs back as if saying _too cold, too cold._

 

“Come back,” he says. “You haven’t even swam a bit!”

 

The dog replies with ruffling its wet fur, all of the water droplets falling on Tooru.

  


He sits there until he hears his mother calling out for him, the flat they’ve rented not being far away. He watches the ocean, skims the horizon with his gaze. Isn’t it time? It has been ten years since he first met the ocean. Isn’t it time he got a signal or _anything_ back from the sheet of glorious blue, from the mountains of white foam and dark blue shifting? Isn’t it time the ocean called back for him?

 

He begrudgingly gets up, makes way back to his parents. It’s a bit lacking as it is their first vacation without his sister but his father grins so wide and bright when he sees the dog still following Tooru, it makes it a bit okay.

  
  


4.

 

He had no idea the things he buried would grow and branch out.

  


It itches and aches as the seed cracks and Tooru just wants to dig a hand in his brain and take it out. He doesn’t know what is happening— all he knows is the _unease._

 

He is turning seventeen beside the ocean he loves, all alone, two hours past his curfew. He muses he is used to find himself on the oceanside when no one is around. His bike -abandoned on the ground next to him in arms length- looks straight out of a horror movie.

 

The stars are out— it is their shift now that the sun bid its daily farewell. He sighs as he names constellations, second nature by now.

 

The oceanside spreads to his left, then to his right. He checks his phone: 00.00 twentieth of july now.

 

He dutifully ignores the texts and one missed called from his father but when a new notification pops up he reads it.

 

The contact name _iwa-chan (✿◠‿◠)_ glows above the messages themselves: “you are at the beach aren’t you?

 

don’t make your parents worry shittykawa

 

happy birthday, here’s to more years together”

  


More years together. That’s cute of Iwa-chan.

  


But Tooru is not sure how long he can stand this _something_ buzzing under his skin, begging to bleed out, waiting behind his eyes like static. He locks his eyes on the ocean, traces waves with his gaze.

 

The ocean is a rather difficult lover, he knows now. Always the cold shoulder. Always the silent treatment.

  


He abruptly misses his sister as he gets up. She is twenty five with a four years old son and little time left for her brother.

 

He bends down to get his bike up, puts his phone on silent because there are more incoming birthday congratulations now.

 

Shooting one last look at the ocean, he tries to stand tall. He shoos away the thoughts of school he’s going to be a second year in. He chases away the suffocating claws of mediocrity. He still can be an astronaut, maybe, he has perfect grades. And he certainly can become a captain, sea sickness never touched his stomach anyways. Plus, he is stubborn enough to say _yes, take years and years away my life for missions_ to both professions.

 

But Tooru is not sure he wants to be anything anymore.

 

He sighs. Hopping on the bike, he pedals away, bloodied petals in his lungs waiting, ready. He decides to call whatever he’s feeling _drowning_ , it suits well.

 

He wonders if he should spare another look at the ocean, wonders if he’ll get his call now.

 

When he decides against himself he misses a star winking at him.

  
  


5.

 

The ocean is ruthless. It is _fervent_ in its mission to slam, slam, slam itself towards cement half walls. Tooru’s tears nearly matches it in intensity.

  


He has zero care in his soaked clothes, couldn’t care less how he is trembling. Sitting under the downpour, his eyes regretfully catch on the bulge his knee brace is causing. It hurts. It seriously hurts.

 

He is told not to move the brace so he only balls his hands into fists, cuts blunt crescents into his palms. After a particularly tall wave, he suddenly realizes that it is the knee he scraped during his first time in front of the ocean.

  


_Rest, ice, gentle compression and elevation._

  


It is etched into his mind since his doctor visit two days ago. _Knee fraction due to over exhaustion, home rest for a week, advised to take it easy when it comes to sports._ He probably won’t ever forget the pain— because it’s still throbbing; and he certainly won’t forget how Iwa screamed his name and how the coach came running.

 

He won’t -or rather, can’t- forget the medics lifting him up. He can’t forget the ceiling lamps of the hospital rushing and blurring above his head as they carried him.

  


_Rest, ice, gentle compression and elevation._

  


Questioning silences from others, why did he pushed his limits this hard, cloud over his head like a halo of smoke. Why? Not to fade away, of course. To catch up with the prodigies. To fix the injustice that the ones don’t work enough get more of the reward.

 

To fill the hollow chest of his.

 

His mother has her sad look default on her face lately. His father is worried, if him constantly and gently checking up on Tooru is any indication. His sister tells him to calm down, he is doing enough— but Tooru doesn’t deserve it. Any of it. And his injury only increased their tender fussing.

 

He doesn’t deserve the look in his nephew’s eyes as Takeru looks up; stars in his eyes, hand in his as they walk into the place Tooru will teach him and other kids volleyball.

 

He throws his head back when he chokes on a sob. Coughing, he wipes at his face— if his tears were to mercy him, the pouring rain wouldn’t. His phone buzzes in his pocket.

 

When?

 

When will they understand he’s not worth all the trouble?

 

He sniffles, sneezes and slaps his hands down on the wet cement. His phone continues to buzz so in a flurry he throws it away.

 

He hopes they never will because he is terrified of being forgotten.

 

Tooru mumbles curses and gets up. He is walking— well, _limping_ towards the ocean: He can’t tell where the waves of the earth begin and tears of the sky end.

 

He walks towards the slippery edge in his fractured, Icarus like glory. He sobs.

 

“Why? Why can’t I just— I never thought it would hurt _this much.”_

 

The ocean slaps the wave breaker, the droplets reach Tooru’s face. He can almost taste the disappointment.

 

It is not his knee he is talking about. It is not his knee that hurts the most.

 

He is eighteen and feels utterly spent.

 

“I just—“ Another sob or a cough, he has no idea. “I just want to stand on the court.”

 

He slumps there, like drunk sailors in the arms of mermaids with sharp teeth, completely aware of how the ocean can sweep him into its cold depths.

 

He can bet the dam in chest broke for real this time.

  


Tooru has no idea how much he stands crumpled there but the rain stops. He sniffles completely indignantly and pushes himself up.

 

The next time he looks in front of him, the ocean seems like it is made of his tears.

 

He limps again back to his phone. The screen is cracked and the device is wet. He sniffles, sneezes again. There is a silhouette coming closer with something suspiciously like dry clothes in their hands. He turns to look at the ocean one last time. He can’t bring himself to be grateful yet.

  


Does it matter how long his pleas went unanswered? The ocean is full of broken hopes anyways. Does it matter how defeated he feels when there are dirty shoes by the oceanside, their owners long gone with the water?

 

_Rest, ice, gentle compression and elevation._

 

He wonders will he be important if he rests his mind, if he ices his heart and elevates his soul.

  


He is eighteen when for the first time in his life he doesn’t feel at home beside the ocean.

  
  


+1

 

It is sunny when he steps into the blues.

  


The water is chilly. It pools and laps at his ankles and reflects a wobbly image of him back on clear, bright surface.

 

He smiles— wide and warm. He is twenty, back from university and on a vacation with his family. His sister, now twenty eight, visited with her own little family too.

 

Tooru stretches, reaches to the sky with his feet planted in the ocean and _smiles._ If he belongs to anywhere on this earth, it is the bridge between the stars and the ships.

  


As the now second year oceanography major makes his way under the six am sky, his chest feels as lighter as it never been.

 

His mind still echoes with the void some days— and sometimes he wakes up from slumbers full of thunder: numb all over. But he makes do. Therapist once a week and meeting with the old Seijoh once a month and he makes do.

 

He chuckles to himself as he remembers the seashells him and Takeru collected yesterday. He is going to make a necklace with them for Iwa-chan, just to keep the tradition going. (And to see that fond rolling of green eyes.)

  


Tooru breathes in, salt burning in his nose; and as he exhales, he imagines of letting the swirling questions of _am I doing enough? am I doing okay? am I enough?_ go.

 

The waves sing a lullaby for him. It is soothing. He won’t be an astronaut or a captain and he no longer is contained in a white knee support. He is just a boy by the ocean.

 

He is just a curious boy that will learn all he can about the layered blue spreading in front of him. He is just a shipwrecked soul that _will_ set sail again. And for the time being, Tooru muses, it’s okay.

 

It’s enough for now.

  


He dives and splashes and laps at the glistening blue for a while.

 

And just as he gets out -hair wet and obediently stuck on his forehead- his foot touches something soft.

 

Tooru’s compass _always_ points to the ocean, its needle _always_ nudges him towards the stars. After all, he has a history with both of these vast concepts: He dreamt of the waves carrying him and he dreamt of the raw power of the harsh blue mountains suffocating him. He thought of the stars watching over him and he thought of the stars as bullet holes across the velvety sky.

 

But he always loved them, even at times where he couldn’t find the strength to love himself.

 

He looks down. It’s a starfish, tossed and set on the shore to inevitably dry. He picks it up. It is big enough to cover his palm. “Huh,” he says. “You are a bit away from home.”

 

While swimming again to a safe distance to put the starfish back, he imagines a shooting star missing its destination and landing at the ocean. Just a lone star gliding and sparkling through the sky a bit too much and falling down from the edge of it. He imagines that star becoming a starfish. He imagines that starfish finding him.

 

He imagines this is how the ocean says _you are our star._

 

He rolls his eyes at himself, lets the soft sea creature go and returns back to find his mother waiting for him at the shore. She is dressed in all white with a smile stretching her lips.

 

Tooru could make a constellation out of the wrinkles she got after the first time she introduced him to the ocean. He thinks it would map his way home.

 

“You look so peaceful in blues, Tooru.” She says. Then she asks if he is cold because a mother is still a mother even after sixteen years, even when her baby is not quite a baby anymore.

  


Oikawa Tooru is twenty and he has no idea that the ocean has been watching over him for his entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time ever writing oikawa, so this is more like me trying my hand at his character. comments are always welcome! even though i tend to reply late, it makes my days to read them
> 
> you can find me at twt @aakaaashi


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